But why?
by Fairywm
Summary: After hearing the prophecy, Harry snaps. Not your normal Evil!Dumbledore. Grey!Harry. Character death. No recapping of Harry's schooling.


**Because I could**

 _Okay a reviewer on The Escape, got this little nugget running through my brain, and I couldn't concentrate on anything until it was done. There are probably loads of mistakes, so sorry about that. Thanks to alix33, who pointed out many errors. I am pretty sure I got them all. I had to go back and write more to this, because it plagued my brain. Not, that any of my old readers will know, but hey…_

 _Anyway, this is much Darker than anything I've ever written and it's not my normal take on Dumbledore. Or, for that matter, Harry. However, this is what I hope that reviewer was searching for. Update: Darn it wasn't what they wanted, but I like it so it's staying._

 _Feel free to use it, or take to a higher level. Just drop me a link so I can read it. I say that on all my stories, and some say, I'll do it, but I never hear back. Sadness._

 _Enjoy_

 **Hphphp**

Young Harry Potter was sitting in front of the large ornate desk of his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Unlike the many times he had sat here before, this time he was quaking in fear and anger. It was a justified feeling right now, after all, he had just seen the man fight. He would never underestimate the Headmaster, no matter what. The man was powerhouse, and a genius. He was very glad the man was on his side, because Dumbledore was amazing with his wand. He earned every medal of honor given to him. Why was he was he also shaking in anger? It was because he had just found out that the twinkly-eyed man sitting calmly behind the desk, the person he had always look upon as a grandfather, had arranged for him to die.

According to the old man, he, Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, had been raised sacrifice himself for the Wizarding World. He would have never known this had it not been for how the Headmaster reacted to the prophecy they just heard.

The ancient man had just jovially given him the disturbing news, in a voice that might as well have been talking about what was for dessert later this evening. It made the young man think of all the times that he had faced danger _because_ of this old man. The years he spent following his instructions, and clues, in an almost worshipping way. Never once questioning that what he was doing was wrong, or better off left to older people. Hermione, with all her wisdom, pointed out every single time that they should get a teacher, but, no, Harry rushed headlong into whatever was the plot of the day. Blindly thinking that no harm would come to him or his. He had made it unscathed so far, and Dumbledore had always been there in the end.

The two friends argued every time. Harry usually won because there were always thoughts of how the Headmaster would save them. How kind he had always been to Harry and his friends. How he always stood up for everyone, even the Slytherins. Even when she was reluctant to tell, he would point it out, that the man would _want_ them to go forward. Especially, when time was at hand. They were Gryffindors for goodness sake. Besides, Dumbledore was a very busy man. He had little time for such menial things.

Now thinking about it, Harry was in awe about just how much political power the man had. The number of offices, and the number of people that hung on his every word. Very few people ever said anything against this man. So, there was never a reason that the young man should think otherwise. Even the Minister took his counsel, barring this last year. No, Cornelius Fudge took the coward way at the return of Voldemort, and vilified both him and the Headmaster. Dumbledore took it in stride, like it would all work out in the end, and it did, to his advantage.

Harry could see that now. He wasn't sure if he should be in awe or running for his life.

The young teen wouldn't have even known that the man behind the desk was evil, except that the old man had looked positively gleeful at the thought of Harry giving up his life, so that he, Albus, would never have to. A few minutes earlier, upon hearing the prophecy and the Headmaster's reasoning, the teen was about to release some anger. However, before he could, he caught the twinkle in the old man's eyes, and he panicked. There was no reason for Albus to be cheerful about the words they had just heard.

Dumbledore was happy, very happy, that Harry would walk into his death. It was a striking blow to realize that. So Harry sat in fear and anger, unsure as to what to do now.

"Why are you so pleased about this?" he asked, buying time. "Don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes. You are acting like all your dreams have just came true at once," the dark-haired teen accused with a pointed finger, never being one to walk away from something that scared him. He stood his ground, petrified in his chair. He would find out why, even if it broke him.

All the while he was thinking, _'This can't be happening. I'll break, I know I will. If what is happening is real, then that'll be the last straw for me. I need this man to support me. Now that Sirius is gone, there is no other adult I look up to. Not like I do him.'_ A fleeting thought went to Remus, but he knew very little about the man, and he was a follower of Dumbledore. No, there would be no help from that corner.

"Alas, I see no reason not to tell you, since you will not remember this conversation," Dumbledore said, pulling his wand and placing it, still in hand, on the desk, causing the teen to panic further. "That and it gives me great delight to see the hope die in your eyes," Albus stated, leaning back in his chair, keeping his wand casually pointed at the Boy-Who-Lived. He took pleasure in seeing the pale face whiten further. Those famous green eyes widened at the sight of the wand. It was like a rabbit knowing that the fox was going to get it, no matter how he tired, but try he will, of that Dumbledore had no doubt. He was not concerned in the least. "I am content in knowing that all my plans have come to fruition. You have no idea how it lightens my heart to know that you, like so many others before you, followed along like the simple-minded person all wizards turn out to be. Years of molding you into my faithful minion, make this old man feel young again."

He gave a small laugh as if hearing a joke play out in his head. He smiled at the helpless child, who's life he was destroying. The boy wouldn't remember it, and he was very, very joyful about that. Now he could torture the child the best way he knew how, with words alone. Yes, he was a master a wordplay, and did so enjoyed tearing apart people verbally. It made grown men weep when Albus Dumbledore lashed out at them. Tearing down their carefully laid foundations, and crumbling the best laid plans. Yes, he was very skilled at that.

That statement, not to mention the wand, coupled with the look on the old man's face, made Harry realize that every word that Dumbledore ever spoke to him had been untrue, or the twisting thereof. The gentle reprimands, the kind words of encouragement, the stories about his parents, all of them fabricated, or warped beyond belief. Right up to this moment, Harry never knew the truth. Did any of it matter? How many times had they had this conversation? It seems the old man got off on doing this. How much of what Harry remembered was actuality?

All of it specially designed to make the boy hero follow the great leader of the Light. Thousands of joyful memories were just dashed to the ground. The kind smiles, the words of encouragements; everything. It was all a game to him; make a person suffer, then show them attention, then that person latched on like a leech. For Riddle, it had been bad attention. For Harry, it had been good. Either way, the two students had Dumbledore firmly in their minds whenever they did what they did, be it good or evil. Their every thought was on how the old man would react to what they were plotting. With every little thing they did, the gentle grandfather/teacher was there to praise or chastise.

Harry had blindly followed the first powerful person that came into his life. Since he was brought into this world, every word every spoken to him about the Headmaster was about a kind man, who would lead their community into the next peaceful age. Hagrid, Remus, Hermione, and many, many others said nothing by good things about the Great Albus Dumbledore. If ill words were spoken, there were many people to put down the speaker.

In contrast with Tom, Albus took the opposite approach. Every word out of that whiskered mouth was designed to make the then teen feel inferior and try to out shine his tormentor. It was a brilliant plan and it had worked well, both did exactly what the old man wanted.

Harry was frightened, more so than when he faced Voldemort, because here he was at the age of fifteen and his life was now in ruins. He had just heard a prophecy that said he must die or kill, his godfather just died before he got to know him well, and now he was supposed to basically commit suicide for the fickle folks of the Wizarding World. Willfully, and without question, throw his life away; all because Albus Bloody Dumbledore said it must be so.

"Years you say? You've been planning this for years? How many? How many people do you control?" Harry asked, a cold feeling in his stomach. ' _Were they all like me?'_ he asked himself, knowing the answer was yes. _'Is everyone stupid enough to just be led by the nose? Was there anyone, besides Tom, who stood up to this man?'_

A hearty laugh was heard, making that cold feeling spread throughout the teen's body. "I know you are not that obtuse, my boy, but I will indulge your questioning. They all are, bar a few Slytherins and many of the Death Eaters. You see, they know not to trust me, but do not have the political clout that I have. Malfoy the senior tries so hard, and will go broke trying to 'knock me off my pedestal' as he is so fond of saying. He spends most of his fortune doing just that. However, Fudge is under my control, he always has been, and always will be. I let Malfoy think he had finally gotten the better of me this year, but the look on his face when I received my positions back will be a very fond memory to me," he lectured, and then gave and evil snicker. "Much like the light of hope dying in your eyes now."

"You mean they all know? Snape? Draco? The whole House knows? How? Did Voldemort tell them?" were the quiet questions. Harry wasn't sure what to think. He remembered a few warnings from Draco, but thought they were just the boy posturing again. At least that's what Hermione and Ron always told him.

"Do not be silly, my boy, they are Slytherins. Of course, they knew. In my youth, if a Slytherin warned you about a person, you did well to stay away. The cunning of that House makes them very good at reading body language. They are the most observant out of all the House's. It took years of calculating to bring that to an end, though Voldemort's first reign of terror did help," Dumbledore confessed, idly stroking his beard, completely at ease. "Yes, my pet project was always helpful in ways he never knew." The jolly laughter filled the office again.

"Why?" the teary-eyed boy asked, each word the evil man behind the desk spoke was like a dagger to his heart. "Why did you do it? We trusted you, looked up to you, and depended on you, you bastard. So tell me, why did you ruin our lives? None of this would have ever happened if you hadn't tried to control everything. Why?" he asked one final time, lifting his chin in bravery that he really didn't feel. He remembered well the fight he had witnessed not an hour ago. He knew this vile person was powerful, and he held no hope that he could beat him magically.

"My dear boy, I did it because I could. No other reason than that," was the serene answer, as if this evil man hadn't corrupted the entire Wizarding World.

"Explain it to me. Tell me how you became this way. If I'm going to die, then it's the least you could do," Harry demand. His mind racing with thoughts of how to bring the Headmaster down. He would think and disregard ideas at lightning speed. Nothing he thought of would work. Dumbledore was just too powerful for a half-trained kid to take on. His entire focus was on escape that he almost missed the man's explanation. Not that he really cared at this point, no his dreams of being a great hero flew away with each second he was in that chair. Bugger Magical Britain, they let this man be all powerful. A fleeting thought came to mind on if he too could control the sheep. Then he shook his head and concentrated on getting out of that room. Those thoughts would be for later.

The old man settled back in his seat, and started his tale as if he were speaking to a grandchild. "A long time ago, when I was but a teen, a young man approached me. His name was Gellert Grindelwald. He was a very attractive young man, and I loved him at first sight. He was strong, foreign, and very handsome. He approached me about ruling to world. He had heard of my power, and wanted me to be by his side." A vacant look crossed his face as he remembered the fun summer that had been.

"You're gay, and you were lovers with Grindelwald?" was the aghast question as the boy turned his attention to the Headmaster. He never knew Dumbledore was homosexual. He had nothing against them, it just took him by surprise. That and to know that he was coupled with one of the most feared Dark Lords of the century, barring Voldemort. The one he was famous for defeating at that.

"Do not judge me, young man," Albus snapped, losing his temper for the first time that Harry had ever seen. Not even when he as fighting Tom at the Ministry did that look cross his face. "I can kill you with my pinky, and nobody will say a word about it."

"Sorry," the teen quickly said, and cringed back in his chair as he looked at the red face and just knew he had made a huge mistake. He pasted the most remorseful look on his face, hoping to buy more time.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, sending a glare to the child. Then he settled when he saw the contrite look. So, he continued, "Gellert and I were making plans to take over Wizarding Britain. Alas, my lover became too powerful and wanted to start a violent and bloody war. I tried to tell him that cunning and manipulation were better weapons, but Gellert would have none of it. We fought, and my stupid sister got in the way. Upon her death, Gellert fled. My brother, Aberforth, knew that I had cast the killing blow and was enraged. He never trusted me, but we were family so he never told another soul. Well, that and he feared me, he still does to this day. The story was that there was a lover's tiff, and my boyfriend accidently killed her. I told the Aurors that I was regretful that my sister had just died, and that I ran my lover off."

"And they believed you?" was the stunned question.

"They had little choice, with my brother backing me. Alas, they never found Gellert, until he started his war. It was at that time I started mine. At first I sat back and watched my ex-lover fight a losing battle for many years. Taking great pleasure in every victory he lost, and each that I won." He looked to the boy whose life he destroyed and grinned a malicious smile. "You see, I needed to prove to him that I was correct. He would have done well to listen to me, and we could have ruled together."

"I don't understand, no one said anything about you fighting a war back then," Harry said, sitting as calmly as he could, knowing that his life was on the line. One wrong word and he'd be dead, he had no doubt about that.

"That is the beauty of the whole thing, no one knew. I was gaining many supporters after my sister's death. I started my plans then; a few kinds words here, a pat on the back there. Subtly telling people how they should think," the old man explained jovially. "They all fell for it. It was so easy; how could I not take advantage of it?" Once more that bone-chilling laugh filled the room.

"But you were just a kid, well a teen. Why would they listen to you?" Harry really wanted to know. This was not in any history book he had ever read. Besides, it might be helpful in the future. He just had to make sure he had a future.

"It is all in the way your present yourself, my boy," the Headmaster stated as if giving sage advice. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, years went past, and people started to notice my wonderful feats of magic — Mind you, they were all designed to get people's attention— they begged me to end that war on the continent. So, I staged a great battle. My dear Gellert was caught by surprise. I did not kill him, like many believe I did. I find that he is still very useful to this day. Know that, young man, never get rid of a valuable resource. Never mind, you will not live long enough to take that advice." The evil chortle came again.

"How? How is he helpful to you?" came the confused questions, like as student taking notes. He ignored the last bit, still thinking of ways to end this… session.

"I take yearly journeys to Nurmengard to keep him in the know, and get his thoughts on what to do next. I must admit, I do gloat that my way was better. Here I am holding mass power, and there he is imprisoned in his own stronghold. He now concedes the point, and is to this day one of my staunchest supporters. He would die for me, if I ever let him free, which is not likely. He turned on me once, I will not take the chance of him doing so again." For a moment, a sad look crossed the old man's face, but it was fleeting.

"That doesn't explain how or why you're ruining our lives. How can you so cruelly rule a world that thinks you are the next Merlin? Why do they even think that? I mean, I know they look up to you, but you've never done anything with all your titles. You still let the werewolves suffer, muggleborn are still second-class citizens, my godfather anguished for years in Azkaban, and people are suffering daily. Why do they think you're so great?" the now frustrated teen asked, mulling over all he knew about the man. Which, when you took away the glitter, wasn't much. He could see how it could be done, hiding behind the grandfather smile, only showing power when the need was dire, and then he wondered if that was the plan all along.

"Ah, but I have, do you not see? I let a werewolf in this school. I admit it was one of the nastier things I have done, vile creatures that cannot be controlled. Nevertheless, I handpicked one that was bitten as a small child, by the most repugnant werewolf alive. He was easy to manipulate, and control. Well, as best a werewolf could be. All I needed to do was tell him he was not the monster that he truly is. Much like I did with you. And, before that I saved a half-giant from going to prison for a crime he did not commit. Granted, I would never let such a disgusting… man get his wand back, but I let him think that I would. I now have two very faithful creatures at my beck and call. I merely have to make a statement, and these two will do whatever it takes to make it happen. Even at the risk of their own lives. Which, in turn, give me great thrills to watch them do so." That thrice-damned twinkle was in full force at these words.

"So, you're saying that these small acts of kindness have put you where you are today? Why turn Dark then? You could still rule the world by being kind. You've proven that already," Harry asked, now hanging on the old man's every word.

"I will rule more than Britain one day, but first I must cast the filth that pollutes this great community out. Not just the muggleborn and creatures, but everyone that goes against me. The pure-bloods that think they are better than me, the half-bloods that defy me at every turn. I will keep the simple families, such as the Weasleys and the Greengrasses at my side. The latter because they always profess neutrality. Those cowardly families will never speak out against me and my laws." The old man's eye took on a vague look, like he was envisioning sitting on a great throne and ruling the world. He knew he could, he was mostly there right now. Even with all the fuss last year, they simply handed him back his titles as if nothing had happened. Oh yes, he was still in the game—and winning.

"Wait, I thought you didn't want to be Minister," the teen said, remembering that tidbit from somewhere.

"I do not wish have a petty little office such as Minister. When I am done, they will call me Emperor," was the proclamation. He straightened up and looked as regal as he could, and he pulled it off rather well.

"What about the Wizengamot, won't they stop you?" the not-so-scared boy asked, doing his best not to smirk at the posturing man. He still needed to leave, so it would be best if he didn't piss the old guy off.

"The men and women of the Wizengamot are all old and lazy. They could not fight if their gold depended on it. They will follow whoever is in charge, like the sheep I molded them to be," he said stanchly. He had worked years to get that governing body to follow him in just about everything. He had his hand in many different pies. Tell the Dark Faction that the muggleborn would be gone if they did this, tell the Neutrals that they would get more gold if they did that, and offer a higher position to the Light if they just let this law be passed. Yes, it had been very simple. With each law passed, or not, his pedestal rose higher.

"There's one thing I don't understand, well more than one, but this one is bothering me, why is Fawkes still here if you're Dark?" Harry asked, glancing at the bird in question, who was preening his feathers.

"One of my better plans, I have to admit. You see phoenixes are just birds. They do not have higher thinking like everyone believes they do. They are just as simple as any other magical bird, such as a post owl. However, very little is known about them, so I spread the rumor that only a Light wizard could own one. It was taken as fact, since it was right after I defeated Gellert," Albus smiled and stroked his beard.

"There had to have been good in you at one time," the young man almost begged that it was true. He knew that the Headmaster was going to wipe his memory, but his mind would be broken. He was still scrambling for ways to prevent that from happening. He subtly searched his pockets, while Dumbledore postured.

"Oh, I was at one time a Light wizard. That all changed when I realized just how malleable humans were. The more I dallied in people's lives, the more I craved to control them. Nothing stopped me, and everyone listened to me. I was always in the spotlight, and even when I was not, my name was on everyone's lips. Do you not see, young Harry? I already control Wizarding Britain," he said imperially.

"I just don't understand why though. You could've been a benevolent leader. You would've still had control. Why turn Dark?" the confused teen all but demanded as his hands closed on something that might help him.

"I crave seeing people so helpless. To see the fear in their eyes about the Dark Lord that I created. To have them come to me for advice. To see them go and fight on my word. To have their hopes dashed again and again, yet still follow me, no matter how many of their family died. They still fought when I told them, how I told them, and where I told them, no matter how unhelpful it was. Stunning spells in a war, only the worst General would make his troops do that. Still they did as I bid, and continued to fall in despair. It was a feeling that I relished… such control," he said as if he were savoring a delicious steak. The content in his voice made Harry sick, yet thoughtful.

"Is the prophecy even real?" the boy asked, changing the subject. His hand closing in on the object in his pocket. Other plans started to form.

"Unfortunately, yes," the Headmaster growled as his hand tightened on his wand, almost to the breaking point. "I do not believe it pertains to poor Tom though. I know how to defeat him, and do not require the help of a child. No, I am sure that that prophecy falls to me," the old man confessed, loosening his grip. "It is one of the many reasons I had your parents put in a spot they would be killed," he smirked knowingly.

It was at that moment that Harry's mind snapped, escaped plans flew out the window. Now there was just revenge. Most everything else he could have let go, but that… no, this bastard was going to pay. Everyone was going to pay. He'd be a pawn no more.

So caught up in his boosting, Albus never noticed the change in demeanor of the man-child. "I had hoped you would die as well, but alas, you survived. I put you with that vile creature, known as your aunt, hoping that you would turn out just as you have. One of my better plans, I must confess. Look at you; weak, starved, and pliable. When this meeting is over, you will not remember and will follow me to your death. It is simply brilliant the way I think. And all this was simply because I could." A huge self-congratulatory smile broke across his face. "You are mine, Harry Potter, and there is nothing you can do about it," the old man sneered, fingering his wand.

In a desperate move, Harry leaped to his feet, threw some of the Darkness Powder the twins had given to him, which he had completely forgotten about when they were fighting at the Ministry, but he'd beat himself up over that later. Right now, he had a Dark Lord to beat down.

Darkness filled the room at once, and Dumbledore fired the first spell to where the child had been sitting. Of course, Harry wasn't there. He had leapt over the desk, and brought his fist to where he thought the old man was. He relished sound of bones breaking, when he hit the man's long crooked nose. Keeping his hand on the Albus' shoulder, he followed him when he fell. Hitting him over and over, until the old man didn't move. Magically powerful he might be, but Dumbledore was an old lazy wizard. By this time the darkness was relenting, upon seeing the Headmaster's wand, he snatched it up and snapped it, not knowing that it could not be destroyed. Later he would regret that move, but for now it saved his life.

He glared at the crumpled old man laying on the floor unconscious, and wondered what to do now. Albus Dumbledore was correct, no one would believe him if he told what had happened here. However, he could not let such a conniving man rule the world. Not one he was in, at least. He gave a slight thought in erasing his victim's memory, but discard that as something he wasn't skilled enough to do. Looking around the office, desperate to find something that would aid him. His green eyes landed on the Sword of Gryffindor. He wondered if it still had basilisk venom on it. He grabbed it, and nicked the Headmaster in the neck, glad to see Dumbledore start to struggle to breath.

"Don't save him, Fawkes. Please, he needs to die," he ordered the bird.

Fawkes simply looked on as his owner started to convulse. He then returned to cleaning his feathers. He never liked that man anyway. He just stuck around for the food and drama.

The boy watched as the most evil man in centuries took his last breath. Harry set the office right, and quickly left. The death of Albus Dumbledore would be a mystery that no one would ever solved.

As he left the office, the Headmaster's word formed in Harry's mind and plots began. The lecture he just received would aid him in years to come. Oh, yes, he was going to remember everything that happened in this office.

The other unsolved mystery was why the Boy-Who-Lived turned into the Man-Who-Killed. Years after his godfather died, so did others. Death Eaters, Voldemort, and anyone who had went against Harry met their fate. Some with outright violence, others subtle accidents that were never claimed to him. He worked in the spotlight as well as the shadows. Unlike Dumbledore he got his hands very dirty.

He almost ruled the Wizarding World, much like Albus did. They hailed him a hero, listened to his every word, and praised his name. He was so caught up in his fame that he made the mistake of telling who he thought a trusted lover, which Dark Lords truly don't have, and was caught.

When he was asked during his trial, why he had done what he'd done, all he said was, "Because I could."

 **Hphphp**

 _Like I said, if you want to take this further, then by all means, have at it. I would like to see that, so drop me a link if you do._

 _I was trying to find a different reason for Albus Dumbledore to be dark and evil, and I hoped I accomplished that. Let me know in your reviews._

 _If you're wondering why the repost, I finally got it over 5,000 words, and now it will be see in searches. It doesn't do to post, if only a few can find it._


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